Gilly Flower

Now the weather has warmed up to a few degrees above freezing, with blue skies and brilliant sunshine to boot, I'm tempted to be outside pulling a few more weeds, instead of catching up with the blogs of others, and fiddling about with mine, but before I do I thought this story was too good not to share.

A few days ago J and I were mystified at the sudden and inexplicable disappearance of our rooster and one of his harem. They were around for their wheat at brekkie time, because I fed them, but somewhere between then and lunchtime, when J gives the chooks a bit of bread and scraps, they'd vanished.

No amount of calling or searching made them come running. And if you've any experience with chooks, (sorry, an Aussie term, those in the mother country are probably more familiar with the term chickens or hens) you'll know they aren't creatures to ever miss out on a free meal.

Our chooks are completely free range by the way, and have over five acres in which to do so, not counting their frequent forays into next door's paddocks, or across the road into the vacant bushland.

These two birds didn't appear the following morning, or for the next five subsequent mornings. We searched all over but there wasn't a feather to be found - should they have fallen prey to a snake (unlikely in winter as snakes are hibernating), or an eagle, (also unlikely as it's not breeding season, and the speed with which chooks melt into undergrowth hiding places at the first hint of circling birds of prey is astonishing to witness. They stay there for ages too until the danger is passed.)

Needless to say by Day Six we'd given up hope they would reappear. In fact we were now crossing our fingers that one of the teenagers - whose reddish plumage suggested it might just be a male after all - would in fact grow up to be one, so the chook production line would continue, when hey presto, J found the errant birds. Alive!

They practically fell out of one of the sheds where J keeps fertilisers, the spray pack, and all our spare buckets. Six days ago he'd gone in there for some piece of equipment or other, left the door open while he did whatever needed to be done, replaced his stuff, and shut the door, never noticing that Chanticleer The Third and his lady had followed him in.

Currently they're drinking and eating like you wouldn't believe, but other than that both seem fine, if a little unsteady on their pins.
Which begs the question about whether this story is one of incredible survivial, or amazing stupidity.

We're still undecided!

You could say rather a lot has been happening on the pulp mill front since I last had time to sit down and add something to this blog. The issue has widened considerably of course in the wake of premier Lennon's departure, and the parliamentary scandals that involved two of his former deputies.

So our next Action will not only incorporate demands to restore democracy, and the establshment of an Independent Commission of Inquiry for the state, it will also be reinforcing community determination to pulp the mill project.

Thursday's meeting of Tasmanians Against the Pulp Mill (TAP) was lively to say the least. I rarely get to these meetings as they clash with other commitments, but I was asked to specifically make an effort to go to this one, and lend some moral support to the decision about joining the Alliance. A good deal of misinformation has been circulating about the decision to form an alliance of all the various groups up and down the state - and inter-state - a decision that emerged from the Grindelwald Strategy Meeting weekend back in April.

To those of us who attended that w/end, the idea is a no-brainer, but either genuine confusion, or a deliberate attempt at mischief, encouraged a puzzling degree of panic about TAP aligning itself with other groups. The fear being TAP's autonomy would be lost, submerged, or taken over by others.

Not so of course, the whole idea of an Alliance was to enable more rapid communication and exchanges of information, to work together and support each other's initiatives in fighting this monolith, but the Chinese whisperers have been out in force, and they did their work well.

And while all has now been sorted satisfactorily, it was a lesson in how easily ideas can be misconstrued, and how quickly confusion can potentially split the goodwill of a group. I don't wonder the UN has trouble.

So now we're gearing up for Saturday 23rd August, and what is hoped will be the biggest rally yet. It will be in Launceston, where State Parliament will be sitting for two weeks, at the Albert Hall, (not quite as big or impressive as its London counterpart of course, but an elegant building nonetheless!)

Bass Greens MP Kim Booth will be presenting a Private Members Bill to repeal the Pulp Mill Assessment Act 2007. That arrogant and ill-conceived piece of legislation that was bulldozed through parliament in less time than it takes to blink, and without any debate or discussion, after Gunns withdrew from the RPDC process because "of unacceptable delays".

Needless to say the reason for the delays was entirely due to Gunns repeatedly failing to provide all the additional information requested by the RPDC panel on various sections of the dodgy data included in their Integrated Impact Statement. And the reason for that was because Gunns knew perfectly well they were dodgy, and were probably aware the RPDC were therefore about to toss out the proposal.

Sceptical? Sound unlikely? Believe me, you don't know the half of it. We don't know the half of it - yet - but the fraction we do know suggests there's something very, very smelly at the bottom of all this, and the deeper we dig, the smellier it gets.

However, there has also been cause for optimism over the last couple of weeks. Gunns' share price is steadily heading south. Yes, it has the occasional 2c recovery, but essentially it's on a downward slide, and financial commentators have publicly stated they think it unlikely this mill will be built. Yaaayyyy,

Mr Gay and his apologists naturally remain upbeat, but JG is still travelling the world trying to drum up sufficient dosh. Clearly he's met with no success or we'd have heard about it:

Now -
(with apologies to John Betjeman)*

come friendly furans
fall on Paul
and Will and John -
spew on them all,
for why should they
miss out on death
let them, (like us), breathe in
poison-filled breath

but perhaps death by log truck
is more their style
than slow months of heaving
on toxic bile -
or maybe it suits them
to chance their luck
of being rolled off the road
by a top-heavy truck

but if this fails to
kill them
there’s always the smog
you know, that lethal white
shroud that is
denser than fog

I could keep on going for
for the list is so long
of ways it can
kill, maim
and harm us,
or make us less strong.

It will damage our hearts,
it might drive us to drink
though it won’t be the water
(which is tough don’t you
think)

for when it comes
to us sharing
this precious resource
the pulp mill takes precedence,
and there’ll be no recourse

so if rain fails to fall
and the rivers runs dry
it’s the community who’ll suffer,
and it’s us who will cry

© 2007 AL-B

* A reference to ‘Slough’ by John Betjeman - ie. “Come friendly bombs, and fall on Slough . . .”

And that's enough for one night. As ever, if you made it this far, thanks for listening.

Readers of Chausiku's blog may have already read the following, as it's the (rather long) comment I've just posted in response to the excellent piece she's written about the pulp mill at Fray Bentos. With a few more bits added.

Given they're not really to be found on every street corner, it's interesting that pulp mills are quite a feature in these blogs. But where the Uruguyan sounds good, the monolith we're up against is an example of the very, very bad.

"I can hardly let this one by without commenting can I, given the fight we have here in Tassie about a pulp mill.

I found this very interesting Paola, and thanks for going into such detail. You don't say, but I suspect this mill is actually the model that was initially sold to us: chlorine-free, and closed loop, which *is* as clean & non-polluting a pulp mill as you can get."

They still stink though. All pulp mills stink. And while I've no idea if fogs and mists are a regular weather feature there, they are certainly associated with pulp mills. The thick fogs due to emissions are one of the many reasons people here are so opposed. Due to our particular geological characteristic we already struggle with a thick blanket of cloud & fog at certain times of the year (winter mostly). This would be exacerbated to such a degree by fine particle pulp mill emissions it would be impossible to see. Road accidents & fatalities would increase several-fold. It happened in USA, where a mill was built in an area similar to the Tamar Valley, & within weeks of opening there was a 15-car pile up.

The mill has since been closed.

"Clearly there are plenty of checks & balances on potential damage to the environment at Fray Bentos. Sadly we cannot rely on Gunns, or the current state govt, to be so vigilant.

But the devious, shonky and unethical company that we are battling (ie Gunns Ltd) isn't going to build that model here in the Tamar Valley at all. Hence the scale of opposition.

Even the pulp & paper expert, with over 20 years experience in the industry, has said on several occasions he wouldn't support a pulp mill built by this company - no matter where they wanted to build it.
However, you may find your blog being checked out by all manner of folk, as (with your permission of course!) I'm going to forward the link to a few people."

Apologies if this seemed like a rant. I guess our experience here is the other side of the coin.

Don't apologise 'Portia', your comment is great, and valid, and puts my piece into perspective, as of course I wasn't living here when either Lake Peddar, or the Franklin issues were happening. That so many Tasmanians were affected, both emotionally and ideologically, is apparent today. You just have to read some of the vitriol being published in the Letters pages of the Ex and Merc - and to which I've just replied in some pointed, (but polite) words of my own.

But you have to wonder at the mentality of Gunns. On Friday we learned they are to close down the Scottsdale sawmill they were adamant would remain open, (following its controversial take-over earlier this year), with job losses numbering 145. And the first these people knew about it was on an ABC radio news bulletin.

It was the first the premier and his relevant minister knew about it as well, so they're also spitting (wood)chips.

And this all follows an industry report - commissioned by former Howard fed minister Eric Abetz, (about whom the less said the better really) - that practically insists on Forestry Tas shedding over 1000 jobs, directly and indirectly, to remain sustainable.

It also follows that iniquitous sovereign risk deal for wood supply, hatched in secrecy by Lennon & Co, and extended for a further five months by premier Bartlett, at the behest of Gunns, because finance has still to be secured for this poxy mill. And all the deadlines for the necessary federal environmental permits have still to be met.

Yes, Mr Gay is still touring the world trying to drum up support from a bank or three.

What hope for logging contractors, or the poor b**$$#! driving those log trucks now. Most would be struggling to pay off their rigs, having been first encouraged into the game by Gunns, and now being hung out to dry.

The bonus of course, for those of us opposed to this stinking monolith, is that all of the above, combined with Ross Garnaut's Climate Change Report released yesterday, has got a few more folk finally beginning to wake up, and seriously question the wisdom of a pulp mill.

Not before time.

This I had to share. The WE game-players are regular readers of my pulp mill spleen, and given the subject matter of many of my contributions I'm sure most have very little difficulty in working out their authorship.

But I'm having trouble working out who wrote the witty reply!

This is mine: And the words we had to include (at least three of them) were: genie; beg; compromise; edge; running.

John Gay's three wishes

Now the mill teeters
on the edge of destruction, do
you think a genie -
your own personal genie
will come running,
do your bidding,
and save it?

As you travel the world
and bend your knees
to beg
a bank
for funding
you need to know
that our genie -
(the planet's genie)
will bid higher
and run faster

because she,
and we,
can't afford
to lose.

Now for the reply: And the words to be included were: amazing; bus; frosty; purl; seedy

Chance Meeting (with apologies in advance)

On the bus he can't help thinking
She looks familiar
Can't place her, though.
Knitting a scarf
Or something like that
One of those do-it-yourself
Poet types

She switches to a purl row
Her hands move so delicately
She notices him watching
Gives him a frosty stare

So she recognises him, too,
It's exciting... Amazing.

Her name suddenly comes to him
If she knows who he is
She must be less of a challenge
He'll introduce himself
To refresh her memory
Of what could be.

He draws nearer...
"Ms (my name)
I think we've met before...
John Gay...

But I shall have to wait until Wednesday to confirm who wrote it . . . . (it was Richard Higgs, who is based in South Africa)

Tuesday 1st July was the 25th anniversary of Australia's High Court decision that stopped the damming of the Franklin River.

Now I realise that most people who might be reading this blog won't have a clue about the significance of either the Franklin River, or the historic decision, but in the context of Tasmania, and the fight we are currently having about a pulp mill, the timing of this particular anniversary is really quite extraordinary.

The campaign to save the Franklin back in 1979 was an environmental landmark for a number of reasons.
A - it was the first serious win for the environment in Australia
B - it saw the birth of the Green movement in this country, and
C - it catapulted a Launceston GP (who had initially come to the state as a locum) into politics. Dr Bob Brown is now a federal government senator, and leader of the Australian Greens.

For many of us he is a national treasure; a hero; a person to admire and emulate. He's also genuine, humble and completely committed to environmental and social justice. The antithesis of your average politician really.

Coincidentally 1979 was the year I first came to Tasmania. I came here on a fly/drive holiday from WA, with M. It was our first holiday since arriving in the country 18 months previously. I can't say that we heard the words 'Franklin River', 'Hydro-electric Commission' and 'dam' spoken during those three weeks that we toured the island, but I do remember we visited some of the more remote areas in the state, (including Cradle Mtn) so we certainly gained an appreciation of the wilderness, and its unspoiled wild beauty.

Back home in WA I remained unaware of the Franklin until an evening in probably 1982 when my then flatmate, (a Tasmanian) dragged me and a number of other friends off to a film being screened at the uni. D was absolutely insistent we saw this film about an amazing wild river in Tasmania's remote west coast, that was under threat of being dammed by the state's powerful Hydro-electric Commission. And the campaign being waged to stop it by a local GP and the fledgling Wilderness Society, of which he was director.

The uni theatre was packed, the film photography was stunning, and we were all encouraged to donate as much as we could to the cause. And I was subsequently very pleased to ultimately read the news that the Franklin was to be spared.

It wasn't until I came here to live that I gained a greater appreciation of what had occurred at that time, the history behind it, and just how significant the win was for environmentalists.

And here we are, 25 years on and with another environmental battle on our hands. The third major battle in fact, (the first was over Lake Peddar; environmentalists lost that one). But the big 'do' at Hobart's Grand Chancellor hotel on Tuesday evening was a sell-out. Over 1000 people from across the state, the country, and the world, (David Bellamy was there for one) came along to remember, and celebrate.

As well as take the opportunity to remind our current (and very new) premier, just what he can expect if this pulp mill goes ahead.

I travelled down on a bus with 11 others, having wangled a couple of hours off work, and negotiated a slightly later start the following day. The atmosphere was incredible, the speakers inspiring, the film footage of the blockade, and the personal stories of some of those who took part in it were equally inspriring, and the emotion was palpable. We sang, we clapped, we listened, we laughed. Some of us even cried a little. It was definitely a night to remember, and well worth the three hour drive there, and the three hour drive back again, (in the pouring rain). I arrived home at 2.30am, and survived the remainder of Wednesday on minimal sleep and adrenalin.

Along with at least three other fellow travellers I even went to the L'ton launch that night for Geoff Law's book 'A river runs free', with more footage of that time of the Franklin blockade. Peter Cundall launched the book, and naturally used the occasion to compare the Franklin fight with the pulp mill. But I think Peter is right about that 'sweetness in the air'. I can smell it too. Gunns are 'protesting too much' and the rumours we're hearing are seriously encouraging.

Never, ever give up, he says. And we won't.

But enough for one night, and if you've stuck with me this long, thanks for listening.